


Queen of the Social Scene

by evrybodysdarlin



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-25
Updated: 2014-05-25
Packaged: 2018-01-26 10:54:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1685753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evrybodysdarlin/pseuds/evrybodysdarlin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the Christmas party of the year, and Margaery tries to get Sansa Stark under the mistletoe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Queen of the Social Scene

Margaery made it her business to know everything about everyone. She was the queen of secrets and gossip, always one step ahead of the social scene. She prided herself on it. She got a lot of her information through her loyal friends who always kept her filled in, but she also spent a lot of time being hyper-alert. She was never relaxing at a party. She was taking it all in, every bit of it, always scanning the room.

Until Sansa Stark walked into the Christmas party.

When Margaery saw her come in, saw her sweet little face and her tumbling, fiery hair, her mind froze like an overtasked computer. She literally couldn't take her eyes off of the girl. Margaery had been through her share of crushes and infatuations, but she didn't recall ever having such a strong reaction to anyone.

She had seen Sansa around campus a few times, and she knew that Robb Stark had a little sister who was thinking of pledging Gamma Omega Tau. She knew a lot about the Stark family, but nothing specific about Sansa. No special angle from which to approach her.

That didn't matter, though. What Margaery set her mind to, she got. She'd decided to get into King's University, and she'd done it. She'd decided to be the president of Gamma, and she'd done that, too. She would find a way to get close to Sansa Stark.

She decided to take the direct approach. It was a party, wasn't it? There was nothing to keep her from talking to any guest she pleased. In fact, as the head of her sorority, it was probably her duty to get to know a new potential pledge.

Margaery made her way across the room, making sure to keep her walk graceful and casual, even as she kept a steady focus on Sansa's position by the punch bowl. She saw that Sansa was just reaching out to get herself a margarita--and there was Margaery's opening line.

"I made those, you know," she said, speaking nonchalantly, but loudly enough that Sansa could hear her over the music. She smiled, using her friendly, approachable smile, not the icy crocodile grin that her rivals had learned to fear. "They're my special recipe."

"Oh, really?" Sansa replied. A little smile crossed her face, mirroring Margaery's, and Margaery felt her heart pound a little. (When was the last time that had happened to her? She was usually cool as a cucumber.) "I haven't had margaritas before. Well, just a sip of one once, at home."

"They call these Margie-ritas, after me. Everyone wants to know my recipe. Do you want to know the secret?" Margaery leaned in, conspiratorial, and Sansa mirrored her again, leaning closer. "Extra tequila, extra triple sec, and the juice of exactly two limes, to add a more authentic flavor. Don't tell anyone." Margaery winked, and Sansa giggled. Margaery usually hated girls who giggled, but Sansa's little laugh was somehow charming. Maybe because it didn't sound practiced. Most giggles employed by sorority girls were very calculated.

"I won't tell," Sansa whispered back. "Are you Margaery, then? Margaery Tyrell?"

"Yes, I am. And you're Sansa Stark?"

Sansa nodded, and Margaery extended her hand. She wasn't usually the handshake type, but something about Sansa's slim, white hands made her eager to touch them, and she would take any excuse she could get.  
"I know your brother," Margaery said, making the handshake last a few beats too long. "And Jon Snow is your stepbrother, right?" Sansa nodded again. "I actually live across the hall from him and Sam. I like hanging out there sometimes, to relax. As a matter of fact, I invented my margarita recipe in their kitchen. They got so blitzed that night that they both passed out on the couch and slept through their classes the next day."

Sansa laughed. "Sounds like them. I was never very close to Jon growing up, but we've started getting along better now."

"He's a nerd," Margaery said bluntly, "but I like him. I've tried to get him to join Robb's frat so he could come to all our parties, but he's just not interested. Are you thinking of pledging this year?"

"Yes, I am, definitely. Do you think I've got a chance?" Sansa widened her smile, and for the first time Margaery saw a bit of artifice in her. It was a dazzling smile that she clearly used deliberately, understanding its power. Margaery knew a practiced smile when she saw one. She was torn between appreciating Sansa's beauty and giving her a little pinch and telling her that there was no use to trying to charm a practiced charmer.

"Oh, certainly. Your family helps, of course, but I can already tell that you'd fit in perfectly at Gamma." Margaery felt a little throb of jealousy even as she said the words. She had a sudden urge to keep Sansa all to herself. She didn't want Sansa to join the frantic whirl of sorority life. She didn't want her to find new best friends or some handsome frat boy. She wanted her to be always just like this, standing out in the room like a beacon of innocence, a breath of fresh air. She was perfect like this.

"Do you have a boyfriend?" Margaery blurted out suddenly. (Her girlcrush seemed to be dampening her usual deft social skills.)

"Oh, no," Sansa answered shyly. "I mean, I'm just a freshman. I haven't really met anyone special yet." Her gaze wandered across the room. "I've got to say, I think your brother is really cute, but I heard that he's..."

"Gay as a Christmas tree?" Margaery finished for her. "He is." She followed Sansa's eyes and saw Loras dancing wildly in the middle of a crowd of laughing girls. "He's got a boyfriend, too, but he just loves getting attention from the ladies anyway. He's kind of a show-off." As though proving her point, Loras whipped his shirt off as he danced, grinding his hips against the girl in front of him. Sansa laughed, but Margaery saw a little blush spread across her pale cheeks at the raunchy sight.

"How about you?" Sansa asked, changing the subject. "Do you have a boyfriend?"

"Oh, no. I've had a few, but no one now. None of them could really keep up with me." Margaery quirked her eyebrows, teasing, and Sansa's blush deepened right before her eyes. Margaery saw her reaction, saw the way that Sansa's gaze was always following Margaery's eyes and then sliding down to her lips, saw the way that she didn't even seem to notice anyone else in the room, and in that moment, Margaery knew that she could have her. She could get Sansa Stark. The thrill of getting what she wanted rushed through her blood, heady as alcohol, so familiar, but another feeling came with it--real desire.

Part of being the queen of the social scene was always keeping your wits about you, and Margaery's life so far had been ruled far more by her head and her quick instincts than her emotions. She had decided long ago that love was overrated, and sex was just another form of currency. But looking at Sansa there, she felt lust and affection and possession, and a strange protective urge. This girl was different. This was a person that could break her heart.

Margaery realized that an awkward silence had fallen over them, which was something that she never allowed to happen. But for the first time, she found herself at a complete loss as to what to say.

She was saved by the object that she saw over Sansa's shoulder--a sprig of mistletoe hanging over the doorway.

"Hey, come here, I want to show you the other rooms in the house," she said. She used the crowded room as an excuse to grab hold of Sansa's hand as she led her toward the door. She tried to hide the little shiver that went up her arm just from feeling Sansa's soft fingers.

"Oh, look," Margaery said, letting her eyes twinkle with mischief as the approached the door. "Mistletoe." She smiled, naughty and half-guilty, and tried to read Sansa's face as she realized where they were standing.  
Then Margaery Tyrell, who prided herself on always being one step ahead, got the surprise of her life.

Rather than getting shy or confused, Sansa threw herself into Margaery's arms with no hesitation, so hard that she knocked Margaery back a step. Sansa's arms went around Margaery's neck, and then she kissed her, deep and wet, shameless.

Margaery could feel Sansa's nervousness and inexperience, but that made the kiss all the sweeter. Margaery put her arms around Sansa's slim waist, pulling her close, ignoring the catcalls and whistles from the crowd of boys standing near them.

When the kiss finally broke, Margaery didn't let Sansa pull away, but instead leaned foward, burying her face in Sansa's soft red hair, breathing deep to take in the sweet smell of it. She took the opportunity to whisper into her ear (and how was it possible that even Sansa's ears were adorable?).

"I don't care if you join my sorority or not. I just want to see you again. You're stunning, you're perfect. I don't care what anyone else thinks, and believe me, I don't say that very often."

Sansa leaned back a little, just enough to look into her eyes. "I'd never kissed a girl before," she whispered back. Then she grinned. "Is it always that good?"

"No. It's because it's you and me. We're just extra fabulous." Sansa laughed, and Margaery couldn't help but kiss her again.

The guys next to them hooted, and Margaery broke the kiss short to glare at them. "Do you mind? We're not putting on a show here, you horny assholes. Please go drool on someone else." They dispersed, grumbling, and Sansa squeezed Margaery's waist.

"Extra fabulous, indeed."

"Want to get out of here?" Margaery asked.

"Don't you need to stay for more of the party?"

"Screw the party. I'm with you tonight."

"Then lead the way."

They walked out together, hand in hand, ignoring everyone else, girls trying to suck up and chat, the boys trying to preen and flirt.

Margaery realized that there was something better than being the queen--finding the perfect person to rule at your side.


End file.
